Third Floor Common Room - Late Thursday Morning

[rocksthescarf.livejournal.com]

Contrary to popular belief, Chuck was not an idiot. At least he wasn't the type of idiot who would actually go out once he heard shit about zombies on the radio. No, he'd save that for the dumbasses here than fancied themselves heroes. He'd stay indoors and not get eaten, thank you very much. Call him selfish, a coward, whatever. He wasn't getting himself killed. Making him smarter than you.

Now he was proving his smarts by showing that he could survive on his own without calling in for food. He was proving this by making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich by himself. Yeah, bread, peanut butter, knife, jelly. The whole deal.

He still had time to cut off his hand so try not to get too excited.

[The common room is oh-so-open]

The gym [afternoon]

[momslilassassin]

Ben's already terrible mood had not been improved by hearing about John and Hurley on the radio.

So there he was, down in the gym despite the workout he'd gotten with his grandfather earlier in the day, kicking the ever-loving crap out of the heavy punching bag.

He was getting the feeling that he'd need his instincts to be sharp in the next few days.

[OOC: totally open omg]

Shooting Range, Thursday Evening

[withoutverona]

Romeo found his way down to the range after dinner, and pulled out both of his handguns as well as the targets and safety equipment. (He winced at the latter, but he supposed it wouldn't do to have Chuck shoot his eye out.)

He cleaned both guns, loaded the 1899 one he'd be using -- whether he was angry at Ino or not, it was irreplaceable and he wasn't loaning it out to someone else -- and idly fired a few practice shots as he waited for Chuck. His aim was good, but it could stand to get better.

[For Mr. Bass, but open range!]